Badges Arrived

Yesterday was busy. I put a bass-line on a song that I wasn't sure about and it ended up being just right, especially sound-wise. I now have to use that sound on at least one other song: I may re-play that one today.

I went to interview Johny Brown of the Band of Holy Joy down at Resonance FM for the 'Postcard To Newcastle' part of the radio show pilot. Just like with Molly Tie, the chat round the edges was really interesting too.

Trying to walk along the riverside to get to Waterloo station, after half an hour's slog I ended up right back where I started, which meant that I missed the first act at Scaledown, but the next two weren't disappointing. I'll find out who the first chap was because he played an African instrument with great skill and sang poignant lyrics in an almost Cutler-esque timbre. Some of his playing sounded rather like The Penguin Café Orchestra, which was beautiful to hear.

The Beach Bullies were also in fine form, augmented by Mark Braby playing some excellent lead guitar. I also particularly liked the unison singing, two male voices together. The male gender's not doing too well at the moment, with some of its most vocal representatives charging around clad in black, wearing masks and claiming to be protecting women when in fact they are completely terrifying to us all. Hearing two gentlemen bonding through shared vocal melody was a completely charming antidote to all that tedious machismo. 

In fact, just that morning I'd had a very hostile interaction with a delivery man with a parcel for next door. He rapped on the door extremely hard, and I opened it to see a tall man with a misogynist's beard and minimum politeness. Unfortunately, I've read so much about toxic internet behaviour from men of a certain age that I've stopped giving them the benefit of the doubt, and have categorised the lot of them as aggressive wasters. Isn't that intolerant? I know it is, but it's for my own safety. One of them came in to do a repair job (it was supposed to be his father doing it) and was so unpleasant that I've stopped asking his father to do handyman work in case he sends the son again. And yes, he had That Beard: a sort of dense biblical bush pointing angrily outwards directly from his chin. Snip, snip, snip, said David!

Today, these have turned up. I think the album will be finished mixing-wise by the end of the week, then there are gigs up to Christmas and beyond, and hopefully a vinyl version once I get organised with that.